Falling For You
by QuickSilverFox3
Summary: Kingsley and Moody are both Aurors. They will always have each others back, right? Written for International Wizarding School Championship R10


**Themes: Beater [A duo that that uses brute force to get what they want]**  
**Prompts: [Plot Point] Injury (main), [Action] Betting on someone or something, [Action] Falling (literally or figuratively)  
School: Durmstrang  
Year: 2**

/\\\/

"Aren't you going to say anything?"  
Kingsley stared at his hands, knuckles white as he maintained his grip on the edge of his combat robes in his lap. His question had broken the silence between them, the only words spoken between them since he and Moody had arrived back at the headquarters and been ushered into this small windowless side room.  
"How's your nose?" Moody asked, ignoring the question, nonmagical eye turning to Kingsley as the other continued to show an expanse of white as he gazed at something out the back of his own head.  
"Fine."

It wasn't fine. Kingsley's nose ached, a dull heavy throb with each laboured beat of his heart, blood dripping steadily onto his hands creating small pools, rivulets running over his fingers. Moody grunted as he pushed himself up, unsteadily clumping his way up to where Kingsley was sitting three seats up. Kingsley didn't move, grip growing tighter until his arms were trembling with the strain of it, shoulders tense and jaw clenched. Moody lowered himself down, aborting the motion to lean on Kingsley's shoulder to help him almost before he'd began it, grunting as he collapsed into the seat. His presence was electrifying, a beacon to Kingsley regardless how far away he was. And now? Their arms pressed together, Moody's head next to his shoulder, his one remaining eye fixed on his expressionless face. Kingsley drew in a deep breath, grounding himself before he turned to Moody, muscles twitching in his jaw with the urge to immediately look away again, but he held out.

"It's on my record," Kingsley began, but Moody cut him off, holding up one gnarled hand.  
"Don't know why you're bringing up your record in a time like this," Moody said brusquely, magical eye rolling back around in its socket to face him before it returned to showing just the white, "After all, nothing unusual happened in that raid correct?"  
Kingsley blinked, surprise cracking through his mask as one eyebrow raised, mouth opening to speak.

Moody patted him on the hand, a sly grin slipping across his face for the fraction of a second.

"No sir," Kingsley said carefully, heart beginning to beat faster, the cold dread that had been clamped around his heart slowly abating, "Nothing unusual happened at all."

/\\\/

"What exactly happened?"

Amelia Bones gazed at the pair in a manner similar to that of a headteacher scolding a pair of disobeying schoolboys. Kingsley felt his cheeks flush, grateful for his dark skin in that instant. He fought the urge to glance at Moody, instead schooling his features into an expressionless mask. This was too similar to the last time he had been dragged in here, blood fresh on his face, setting him on edge, nails digging half-moons into his palms clasped behind his back.  
"Mission complete," Moody growled, hands shoved into his pockets so Bones wouldn't see the tight grip he had around his wand. Kingsley knew it would be several hours before Moody relinquished his grip, soothed by time spent in the quiet and the dark, sitting in his own home with Kingsley and some sort of expensive brown alcohol in his hip flask.

Amelia glared at him, drawing in a long, deep breath, her nostrils flaring as she struggled not to snap back at him. It was a strange gift not many Gryffindors possessed, Kingsley had noticed, watching from the side lines as an invisible Hufflepuff despite his height, the gift to get so completely under someone's skin with only a few words. And from the steady pressure of Moody's magical eye fixed on him, Kingsley allowed the flicker of a smile to slip through his mask, the motion causing fresh spikes of pain to flash through him. But worth it.

"Really Auror Moody? Mission complete?" Amelia said, her voice leaden and ringing with disbelief, "Based on Auror Shacklebolt's file-"  
"I don't see what that has to do with anything," Moody interjected immediately, pouncing on the line like a cat, hackles raised.  
"He has a history-"  
"As do I," Moody cut her off once again, one sharp motion of his head cracking his neck, a horrible gut wrenching sound that caused Amelia to wince, "In fact, my file is far more bloody than young Shacklebolt's here so why don't you-"

Salvation from the brewing argument came in the form of Rufus Scrimgeour, the man bursting through the door, gaze quickly shifting from the battle-ready Moody to the seated Amelia Bones. He was breathing heavily, tawny hair hurriedly pulled back into a loose ponytail, but he looked no less dangerous.  
"Bones. My men need to be debriefed before questioning. It's procedure," Scrimgeour said, raising himself up to his full height, a lazy lion stretching himself out now that a threat had arrived.  
Madame Bones didn't shift a single muscle from her regal position, save to raise an eyebrow.  
"It is also procedure to raise incidents with your superior when necessary Rufus. And yet I have a feeling that this incident would have passed me by," she said, waving one hand at Kingsley, heat rushing into his cheeks once more. Moody's magical eye rolled towards Kingsley once more, the electric blue pupil catching his eye as it shifted in a seemingly random pattern. Kingsley was not a fan of this plan if he was reading the signals correctly, and yet he knew it had to be done.

Other people had described their magical cores as anything ranging from the sensation of sinking into a warm bed, full of peace and serenity, to the middle of battle, blood high and danger firing every nerve. For Kingsley it was a slow sink into cold water, revitalising then dangerous the further away from the surface he sunk until he was almost lost. From there it was almost second nature to push the magic through himself in an undetectable whisper, slamming a curse through his already broken nose. The throbbing pain in his nose blotting out all else for a precious few seconds, vision whiting out as the world tipped dangerously sideways to the sound of Scrimgeour's raised voice and Moody's grip on him, safe and secure.

Moody's arm was warm around his waist, shoulder steady under his arm as they moved down the corridor, Kingsley slowly coming back to himself. Kingsley spared himself a second from the intense concentration of the swaying ground under his feet to glance down at Moody, seeing blood encrusted on his dirty blonde hair. A slight pain in his hip, a warning to keep silent and the questions that had been swirling in Kingsley's mind dropped away once more, safe with Moody once again for now.  
"We will debrief tomorrow," Scrimgeour said, his voice coming from far away even as Kingsley raised his head, eyes struggling to focus on his blurry figure a few steps ahead of them.  
"I'll keep an eye on him, get him checked out and all that," Moody said with a sharp nod that Kingsley felt rather than saw, realising a few seconds too late that his cheek was resting on the top of Moody's head, and the man was letting him. Moody was relaxed underneath Kingsley, only the necessary tension to keep the taller man upright, no stiffness in his spine at his extremely close proximity. That… was interesting. Pain muddled Kingsley's mind, random flashes exploding across his vision, but he dived for that fact, clung to it like a lifeline. Moody didn't mind having Kingsley close to him, closer than would have ever normally been required.

"Other that, well done. Unconventional, and that will count against you both, but it got the job done. I'll get your points on the board," Scrimgeour said with a small chuckle before turning to leave, exposing his back to Moody in what was either sheer confidence or arrogance.

"You still with me lad?" Moody asked as Scrimgeour's footsteps moved away down the corridor, the noise ringing inside Kingsley's head.  
"I may have overdone it," Kingsley mumbled, feeling Moody's laugh reverberating under his cheek, the man's shoulders shaking as he fought down the barks of laughter.  
"Come on, let's get a move on," Moody said finally, jabbing Kingsley with his shoulder companionably, no true force behind the action as the man straightened up with groan, head swimming. The rest of journey was almost a blur, pain keeping Kingsley just below the surface until he collapsed into his chair at Moody's house, the magic slowly fading away until the it was calm, unbroken waters once more.  
"That was a strange job lad," Moody chuckled, wand resting across his knee, hipflask in his hand, taking a long swig before he offered it to Kingsley who took a grateful drink, throat burning.  
"You can say that again," he chuckled, settling back into the chair, eyes slipping to half lidded as he gazed at Moody, lit by the fire. He felt safe for the first time since early that morning, warm and protected, mind slowly wandering over the events of the raid, picking and poking for anything to worry about in the future.

/\\\/

The spell sang as it impacted into the wall where Kingsley's head had been only precious few seconds earlier. This mission was meant to have been a simple one, an easy arrest then leave with almost no need to draw their wands or raise their voices, Kingsley's frame and Moody's reputation normally halting any forms of reprisal before they had even begun to think about it. An easy job, then points on the board for the both of them, one step closer to victory.

"Chin up lad," Moody had growled as they had walked towards the Apparition point, Kingsley slowing his pace ever so slightly, so Moody didn't have to hurry with his bad leg, "They're watching you."

Moody may have been meaning the superiors from the other division, or the other senior Aurors, Kingsley hadn't asked. However here and now? The only people watching him were fanatical Death Eaters, somehow crawling out of hiding now on this supposedly routine arrest for trafficking stolen goods. And Kingsley was alone. The area where Moody had been standing was there no longer, floor collapsed in a shrieking heap of rubble and dust, creating a large hole with nothing beneath it for several floors but empty air. No time to consider that now, focus. A brief glance had been risky but necessary, no risk without sufficient reward, all hard work pays off. And paid off it had. The two closest to his position had bad aim, managing to go wide but deadly each time; the third was more accurate but their spells were weaker, lacking the sheer power behind them to make them truly deadly. Positives and negatives. His mind tried to wander back to the absence of Moody, the space where the shorter man would normally occupy aching like a fresh wound, but Kingsley pushed it down.

"_Bet you can't_."  
The whispered voice gave him pause, halting his upward movement a fraction of a second before a rain of spells hammered against his barricade, several whizzing high over his head, a shower of dust fogging up the air. He wasn't the first choice for an Auror, too tall, too noticeable, a Hufflepuff and not from the right sort of family. He hadn't let that stop him now, why would he let the hateful whispers of those from the past stop him now? Kingsley rolled his neck, his wand a comforting weight in his hand. These wizards all had one key fault, always thinking that the old ways of doing things would prevail, that the Aurors would play by a similar rulebook to them, all magic and nothing else. Kingsley would prove them wrong, after all what was one more black mark on his record if it saved lives? He would carry the burden for those who couldn't.

He bolted from cover, running straight at the two in the centre, using his momentum to crash into them, a confusing mix of bodies and limbs. Everything they were expecting him to do, all the spells they were prepared to counter, they were not prepared to be punched in the face, blood fountaining from their noses as they collapsed to the floor in joint wordless shrieks of agony. Another spell shot past his face, the magic burning his cheek, the mere aura from the spell shattering his nose as effectively as a boot to the face. Kingsley rounded on the third and final Death Eater, magical binds snapping around the incapacitated two on the floor with a mere word. Two to add to the board, pushing him and Moody one step closer to winning the jackpot. Kingsley grinned at his last opponent, copper in his mouth, staining his teeth as the man's face blanched, hands flying into the air in surrender as he joined his fellows constrained on the floor.

"You okay lad?"  
Kingsley nearly wept from relief at the sound of Moody's voice, even as ice settled in his veins. The change in procedures had been swift and violent following Bartimaeus Crouch Senior's removal from the position of Head Auror but one rule was abundantly clear: no excessive violence against suspects. Punching them in the face fell under that category as Kingsley was well aware, the feeling of bones shattering under his fist a comforting one as it done ultimately more good than harm, the girl the wizard had held captive safe and far away from him, and Kingsley with a black mark against his name and tarnished record so soon out of the gate.  
"I'm good!" Kingsley called, hands beginning to tremble as the adrenaline slipped out of his system, breathing short and shallow as he carefully picked his way to the hole, peering over the edge. Moody was staring up at him, hair and face grey, but a grin as wide as can be.  
"Come on lad! Got to be getting back. Retrieval can get those three."  
Kingsley glanced around the room once more to confirm what he already knew, no stairs, the remnants lying in pieces around Moody. He glanced down, shrugging his shoulders before Moody took up a stance they both knew well.  
Jump, I'll catch you, it said. Kingsley was taller and broader than Moody, younger and stronger and yet he found himself balancing on the edge, dust raining down under his feet as he felt himself fall forwards, trusting Moody to catch him.

And he did.

/\\\/

**Injury: broken nose, injuries inflicted on others  
Falling: falling down the hole, slowly falling in love with Moody  
Betting:running theme of tallying up captured criminals based off of B99**


End file.
